A Tale of Change
by Scarecrow-Alone
Summary: The greenclad killer is sheltered by a man who may be able to repair her broken mind.My 2nd fic.
1. Fatal

I do not own Soul Calibur 1, 2, or 3. I make no profit; I just wanted to make a story.

NOTE: I have created this story because I recently finished playing the game Soul Calibur III. I won't drag out saying I feel extremely sorry for Tira, Nightmare's manic servant. This story is a story based around Tira, and events that should have been in the stead of the current.

Chapter 1: A nameless

She bounced her way happily up the narrow stone pathway that ran oddly through the woods. Glancing around her through the patches of sunlight, she tried to get bearings of where she was. She could never tell anymore, it was just too much to remember when you wander.

Aiselne Drossel bounced against her waist, and she shifted it on her shoulder to where it was just far enough not to bounce anymore. She continued on this way, bouncing along through the wilderness, when finally a large clearing could be seen.

"Alright, a bed!" The green-clad killer broke into a sprint through the edge of the forest towards a house that stood near the other edge of the clearing. She had almost reached it when a farmer came around the side of it. He had been fumbling with a tool before he saw her, but when he did, he almost dead fainted. The girl was hardly wearing anything. Not to mention she had looks that could kill (no pun intended).

He was so caught up in her appearance he neglected to notice the enormous ring slung over her shoulder.

"High, I'm staying here tonight, ok?" She let the ring drop to the ground so she could lean on it.

Speechless, the farmer could hardly beckon her towards the house to come inside.

Suddenly, a high, ringing voice echoed from inside it.

"Tenimus, who's out there? If it's Pariel, you tell him he's more than welcome to come inside and visit." Out stepped a rather short woman, her hair tied back with a white, lacey bandana.

She saw Tira and stopped, "Oh my, where did you spring from, dear?"

The girl pointed lazily across the field, "I walked through the woods over there. There's nothing in there to play with though…"

The sad note on the end of the statement pricked at the old woman's mind. As any sturdy woman who lives in the wilderness would know, you have to be cautious. She wordlessly motioned the farmer to come with her inside. Leaning on Aiselne Drossel, unvexed, the girl stared about her carelessly.

Inside, the old woman was arguing with her husband, "Something is wrong with that girl, I can just feel it! You march her right over to Pariel; he'll take care of her. I don't want her in my house!"

"C'mon, Amelia, what harm can a girl do?"

Amelia swelled to a rather purple hue, "Did you see that thing she's totin' around? Or were you too busy staring at her chest you buffoon?"

The whispering battle inside lasted a minute or two, leaving the green dressed girl to grow impatient. Finally, the two emerged.

The old woman was of paler complexion than before and the man looked rather grumpy.

Amelia stepped towards the girl, "You can stay the night dear, but you have to leave your weapon out here."

The girl shook her head, "Nuh-uh, I'm taking it with me." Had she not carried a large circular blade, any casual observer would have imagined a stubborn child telling a grown-up that they weren't going to stop doing something bad.

The old woman puffed up like a balloon, "Now you listen, child, I'm not letting you into _my_ house if you're gonna refuse to do what I tell you!"

The change on the girls face was horrible. Where at first a child-like expression had graced the beautiful features, a glare full of malice was staring daggers at the woman. The radical change in her voice was easily noticeable as well.

"I think you can die now.."

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All right, I really need feed-back for this, because I really enjoy writing misleading things, and I just have to know what you think. Think I said 'I' enough in that sentence:P

Attention: When reviewing, mark your review with the chapter number you are reviewing for. This makes it easier for me to pinpoint a certain event you may mention in your review.


	2. Surprise

I do not own Soul Calibur 1, 2, or 3. I make no profit; I just wanted to make a story.

I apologize for the shortness of the first story. This one will be somewhat longer.

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Tira woke inside the house she had commandeered the day before. She stood and skipped to where her clothes lay. Dressing, she caught a look at herself in the mirror. Her mind did something of a standstill. It had been so long since she had stopped to get a look at herself. Her emerald hair shown out in the morning light coming through the open window. It was much longer than the last time she had checked.

It no longer was in that perfect style she liked. Considerably straighter now, it reached down right past her shoulders.

"Oh no, that won't do, nope!"

Skipping down the stairs, she passed through the door out to the small shack where she was sure the farmer had kept his tools. Opening the rotting door, she instantly saw the thing she needed. Getting the small carving knife, she went back into the room with the mirror, and sat down.

She spent about an hour cutting off hair to the exact way it had been when she had seen it last. In the act of doing this, she had set her mind in a rare state of calm. Hardly ever did she calm herself this much.

Finally finishing, she stepped down the stairs slowly this time. She began searching for food. A few minutes of searching turned up a pre-wrapped lunch of beef and bread. Concluding it had been for the farmer's next day of work, she ate it quickly. Her thoughts suddenly turned to the farmer and his wife. They hadn't been much fun. The woman had actually put up more of a fight than that coward of a man had.

When Tira had advanced on the two of them, the farmer had foolishly tried to lock himself inside with his wife. The door had fallen to ribbons in a heartbeat with a simple swipe of her ring-blade. After Tira cut down the pathetic farmer, Amelia had taken up a piece of fire wood and beat at the girl with it, Tira viciously cut her down as well.

No fun at all.

Something sparked in Tira's mind. The bodies. Turning and rushing outside she looked around. The corpses were gone. She hadn't moved them or anything, so how could they have disappeared?

A nagging feeling in her mind went unnoticed as her mind passed through a severely annoyed state. How could two bodies just vanish?

Footsteps sounded behind her. She spun around, ready to fight, but realized that Aiselne Drossel was inside. The figure coming towards her was clad in a brown leather tunic. His pants were a simple pair of slacks. His face was a handsome one, with blue eyes, black hair, and thin tattoo snaking from the tip of his eye down to his chin.

"Hi there, you wanna play?" Tira asked, quite irritated that she'd have to dismember this fool with naught but her bare hands.

The man's face was impassive as he halted. Crossing his arms over his chest, he spoke in a low voice.

"I believe it's time you slept again."

A buzzing sound sounded in her ears, and she shook to head to get rid of it. It only intensified. Then it changed from a buzzing to a very large pounding. Groaning in pain, Tira sagged down to the ground and fell into the pit of unconsciousness.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Thoughts swam through her head, deep in her mind. They were of her life before she was freed from the life of an Assassin. They continued, probing through her life until it came to the point of her freedom. A sudden change in memories brought her for a moment to the moment she killed the family that had sheltered her for a time. A sharp, claw-like feeling shot through her. Had she actually killed them?

Radically, the scene in her mind passed to her first encounter of Nightmare, the hellish creature born from Soul Edge that she was so eternally loyal to. Why had she traveled this far? Ah yes, the sword. And Siegfried, the one who tried to kill Nightmare! Rage boiled through her, but was suddenly wiped away by a feeling of regret.

Wait! These were not her feelings! Why was she thinking of feeling sorry for that pathetic worm of a knight that had threatened her master? No, she would kill him is she met him. Pain coursed through her now, expelling that thought. What had she been doing all this time? Searching for Soul Edge of course! Why did she keep asking herself these stupid questions?

_You aren't, I am._ The thought was not her own, and suddenly light struck her eyes, and she bolted up, trying to get at the figure over her. But to no avail. She was tied down. Screaming in rage, she spat at him

"I'll rip you to pieces you cowardly bastard!"

The man stared at her with a frown, "You are in absolutely no position to make threats, girl, so be silent!"

"No! Let me go so I can crush your pathetic head to a raisin!"

The man's voice dipped to an annoyed growl, "I said be silent. Or do you wish to be put in a much more dangerous situation? I could easily tie you to a tree outside so the creatures of the night will tear at you slowly. No, I think you want to live."

Tira reluctantly fell silent. Oh if only her master were here to see this, the man would be nothing against the great blade.

"Your master doesn't care for you, little one. He has only ever used you."

Confusion racked her mind. A mind-reader? Impossible. The art of telepathy was long forgotten.

The man gave the very slightest of laughs, "Yes it has, except by those who were there when it was used at its peak."

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Hope you like it so far, please read and review. Any and all feed-back is appreciated, unless it's just some complaint.

Attention: When reviewing, mark your review with the chapter number you are reviewing for. This makes it easier for me to pinpoint a certain event you may mention in your review.


	3. Fear

I do not own Soul Calibur 1, 2, or 3. I make no profit; I just wanted to make a story

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Rational thought normally didn't play a part in Tira's mind, though this took some. Statistically speaking, she caught up faster than normal mentally ill people do.

A telepath, a very young looking telepath at that. If he was truly an ancient, she had just hit a very large rut. Long ago in her Assassin Guild, she had heard of few remaining ancients drifting in and out of the Guild's dealings, posting odd targets, or collecting their own compensation for taking care of a target. Very shortly before the fall-out in the chain of command, the ancients ceased all communications with the Guild.

Some of the remaining Assassins had theories that the ancients were directly responsible for the Guild's destruction, but Tira hadn't stuck around long enough to care.

Now she was staring at one. And he was more dangerous than a pit of spikes if he could read minds.

She scanned the area. This was nowhere she had been. It was dim in one corner, and very bright in the other. She couldn't tell what the walls were made of, or the ceiling….anything at all. It all looked blank, yet solid. This was no earthly place.

"It is a soul chamber that I have taken up as residence."

"A what?"

He frowned again, "You're not deaf, girl. I said it's a soul chamber. It exists in and out of the mortal realm, a passage for the dead to pass through into the Other World, as my former brothers call it." Standing from his kneeling position, he walked over to a wall and rested his hand flat on it. The surface rippled and parted.

A doorway just barely large enough for him opened and he turned back. Whatever was bonding Tira suddenly released her. Her hesitation lasted only a moment. The green blur charged at the man. Lashing out with her hardest spin kick, she aimed for his head. And missed by an inch, if not less.

Tira crashed hard to the ethereal material that most definitely resembled stone now. A nanosecond was all he needed to pin her down by the throat with his heavy (and studded) boot. She choked, struggled, and thrashed. He stared down at her with a look of pure annoyance.

His voice came out in a growl, "A very serious mistake, wretch. Perhaps I could let you use this place as a shortcut so you don't have to find your way here after death." His foot increased its pressure, and after years of holding only rage, hatred, and glee, the green-clad killer's eyes lit up with fear as her struggles became weaker and weaker.

Her vision started to fog up, and she could hear the ever slower beat of her heart beating a horrible tune in her mind.

Then, air, remarkable air coursing back through her. She flipped over onto her arms and coughed with spasms.

Her vision flowed back, and she could see the man again. He gave her a moment to recover, then grabbed the back of her torn tunic, and practically threw her through the doorway.

Stumbling, she collided with the ground again, but this time on dirt. She quickly stood and faced the man, who stood a few feet away, in front of a shimmering oval-like light. It suddenly flowed shut, and became air again.

Tira's head ached from the lack of air she had gotten, and was staring loathingly at this man who had just humiliated her beyond anything she had even known. Imagine, anyone but her Master harming her! Only nightmare had a right to touch her.

The man suddenly burst into laughter quite unlike her previous sampling.

"Oh, you are an interesting one. I've only seen one other person follow an idea so blindly. Though, you perhaps aren't as helpless as he was."

How dare he insult her by comparing her to whatever pathetic fool he spoke of!

She bared her teeth and almost literally hissed at him, though there were words strung between her teeth, "Give me my weapon and I'll show you who the helpless one here is…"

He raised his eyebrows, and outstretched his hand to the side, and a bright ring of hollow light shimmered. It quickly brightened, and formed into the shape of Aiselne Drossel.

He tossed it to her feet, and she quickly scooped it up, relishing the familiar feel of the cold, deadly edge.

Her captor scrutinized her stance for a moment, then spoke, "I will make you a deal. Beat me with your little toy, and you can move on, even tell your 'Master' where I am so he can find me himself and punish me for your humiliation. If the opposite happens, then I shall show you what life can really be."

Her eyes, narrowed in confusion, but was pushed aside by the man outstretching his hand a second time.

"Now, you see _my_ toy."

The same sort of shimmering light that produced her ring-blade appeared, but this was thinner, and straight. It formed like clay into a fairly large double-ended blade. Its edges were blackened like coal, while the insides of the blades were gleaming silver. At the bases of the blades, they fanned out slightly to make a hand-guard. The handle was simple compared to the rest of it. A long, thin, blood-red sash had been wrapped around it enough times to make it comfortable on the hands.

It floated in the air for a moment, and then was grasped by the man's gloved hand.

He stared at her, calm and analytical. After second or two, his voice said softly, "While your weapon is Aiselne Drossel, mine is Koritin Trithe, the "Dual Fang", as the ancient language is translated. And mine, is Pariel. Be sure to remember it if you chance yourself a win."

With a movement so fluid she almost didn't see it, he arced to her left, the double-blade spinning like a fan. Such speed shocked her, and she herself was extremely fast. But not as fast as this demon!

She tugged her blade up just before the other weapon struck, its black edge glancing off, only to be replaced by a vicious stab towards her stomach. She bent back as far as her flexible body could go at that speed, and back-flipped out of the way, Aiselne Drossel grasped hard in her hand.

Anger flooded through her. No one would beat her, no one! With all her speed, she swiped at his neck, and missed, Pariel moving as easily as the wind. She slashed again. And again. And again. Every time, a miss. He was infuriating, moving like that. Worse was the fact he used Dual Fang like a feather, weaving it in and out around her in a deadly dance of doom, her own dance being that of life-saving avoidance.

Aiselne Drossel was now forgotten in her hand, as she ducked, dodged, dipped, and twisted to avoid her now greatest fear. This man was going to kill her. Never had she feared death, but he made it seem all too easy for anyone to die.

For how long this lasted, only the man could know, for her consciousness was stripped away from her as he brought his blade towards her head.

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Ahh, again, I must thank my first reviewer for my story, miss Casey Jewels. She has been my most consistent reviewer in my other story Outlander of Morrowind (Which I promise will get a new chapter sometime, I gots me some writers block -.-), and I hope you other readers will please review any way you like, unless you wish to complain about my story. I will not pay attention to complainers. You don't like it, find another story, or go say hi to moving traffic. Okies, I'm gonna stop typing now……anytime now……wait for it……wait for it……..done.

Attention: When reviewing, mark your review with the chapter number you are reviewing for. This makes it easier for me to pinpoint a certain event you may mention in your review.


	4. Explanations

_The darkness is comforting, no?_

It is.

_Tell me, why did you kill my friends?_

Friends?

_The two you slaughtered so irrationally._

The woman tried to stop me from staying there.

_She had every right to._

I go where I want.

_Not in this forest._

It makes no difference where I am. No one can stop me.

_No? Consider what you just said when you wake up… _

Where am I?

_Don't concern yourself._

Tell me where I am!

_No._

Why?

_Because you need to pay attention to some things…_

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Tira's mind was filled with images. Horrible images of slaughter and war. She turned to the right, there were soldiers lying dead, each of them injured by something massive. Scorch marks ran over their armor as well as the slashes.

_Look at the horizon…_

She did. And what she saw was demonic..Unreal. Atop the hill stood a flaming beast, spikes jutting out of its back and horns protruding from its skull. Its chest was covered in a shell of some kind, with a flow of something issuing from the cracks lining the bone breast-plate.

_This is your master before he found the one you call Siegfried. Long before, actually. This creature was borne off the Soul Edge. The same that Nightmare carries, though what he now holds is broken and crippled. A mere shadow of itself. Siegfried carries what is remaining of Soul Edge, as well as Soul Calibur. _

What is Soul Calibur?

_The exact opposite of Soul Edge. The foul blade is an unflinching source of evil. Soul Calibur can never be touched by evil. Long, long ago, my people found Soul Calibur on the opposite side of the world from where Soul Edge's origins were said to be held. For centuries, the Soul Edge had passed in and out of the dealings in history, and for centuries, a chronological plague of evil was spread._

_The finding of Soul Calibur was a blessing for my people, for it was the only thing that could stand against the evil blade at the time… Many of our warriors had fallen to the Entity that existed in Soul Edge, your Nightmare, though it wasn't calling itself that at the time. It was Inferno then. Hundreds of wars had been thrown up against it, and hundreds were swept away with minimal effort._

_Soul Calibur was our first weapon against it. _

Upon the battlefield, the demon suddenly turned, and looked to a harsh light shining from the western edge of the battlefield. A man stood there, dressed not unlike Pariel did, though this man was fairly aged. In his right hand, he heald a magnificent shield, guilded in gold and silver. In the left, was Soul Calibur, the blade shining brightly. Turning to face the man, Inferno raised Soul Edge. It was much different than the one Nightmare carried. This one was complete.

Soul Edge was absolutely massive. Jagged curves edged all the way up it, and pulsations pumped all over it, the bone-like blade stained with blood. A great red eye glared out at all in its vision. Twitching madly about.

Inferno gave a raging shriek, and pointed the evil blade at the man holding Soul Calibur. He raised sword and shield, ready to fight. Inferno charged, reducing the distance in mere seconds, twisting the sword about angrily, lunging towards the man. They clashed, and a battle began anew there on the ravaged land, its surface now shaking with the colossal might of their blows. It continued for an eternity of ear piercing shrieks of metal against bone.

_This was the first encounter of Soul Edge and Soul Calibur. Soul Edge raged against the bane of evil, and fell with a saving strike made by Artimell, our strongest in that age. When it was cast down by the pure, raw energy of Soul Calibur, Soul Edge shrank away into the shadows, reducing itself to the simple form of Soul Edge today, waiting for unsuspecting hands to take it._

_I do not know how the knight called Siegfried came to have it, but I am glad that he has been released from its savage hold. But unfortunately, he still carries it with him. Perhaps he seeks to destroy it. If so, he is a fool. That blade is a source of pure evil, as Soul Calibur is a source of pure good. Balance must be eternal, so the blade must remain._

_Thinking of Soul Edge's presence of mind, I find it disturbing that Soul Calibur has not yet taken its own state of mind. It would be most helpful if it could take a shape as Soul Edge has done countless times… Perhaps the dealings that fool, Arckile, had something to do with it. He was supposed to protect the blade from all who would try to corrupt its power, but he lost it while trying to use it for his own purposes. He was cast down from the Order of the Ancients, as you humans today call it._

_He resides now as a cursed imbecile, unable to die due to his spell of reincarnation._

Why do you tell me all this?

_So you can know what your chosen master is._

It doesn't matter what he is, I am his to command. He's the only one I've ever found who is like me.

_Try not to amuse me girl, I have no patience today. He is absolutely nothing like you. Unlike you, he can never stop his thirst for death. He was born from Soul Edge for one purpose. To serve as a harbinger to those who wish for peace, and good through the world. You are broken, twisted, bent to the mind you are in now by the Assassins that raised you._

Whatever you say, I cannot change.

_Oh you can change, little one. Let me show you what you could have had if you wanted to change…_

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